It Happened One Night
by Tanama
Summary: Would would happen between two friends in the right set of circumstances. I plan on fully using the R rating in the next chapter. ::grin::
1. chapter one

Title: It Happened One Night Rated: R Pairing: H/Hr Summary: Given the right set of circumstances, what could happen? Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter I wouldn't be using a crackhead computer nor would Visa and Mastercard own my soul. Its not mine..sadly.  
  
Hermione was seated in a great big overstuffed chair and stole a look over her book, Hogwarts, A History 82nd Edition, and spied upon the scene unfolding right before her eyes. Harry and Ron were engaged in a game of wizard's chess in front of the Gryffindor common room's enormous fireplace, and unless her eyes were deceiving her, Harry was actually going to win.  
  
"Checkmate!" Harry called triumphantly, his emerald eyes shining as he flashed a grin that Hermione had always found adorable.  
  
"No bloody way!" exclaimed Ron in disbelief, his eyes quickly surveying the board as if he would be able to change the outcome of the game, despite having had his king smashed to bits by Harry's queen. "I can't believe it."  
  
"Believe it, Ron," said Harry full of mock arrogance, "I usually just let you win." Harry was unsuccessfully trying to hold in his laughter at such an obvious lie. It was a well-known fact that a game against Ron in chess would almost absolutely result in a loss for the challenger.  
  
Hermione was chuckling as she approached her two best friends, knowing she would not be able to resist needling Ron and further. "Has our reigning chess master finally been overthrown?" she asked cheekily.  
  
"No! I mean. I .I wasn't paying attention!" Ron sputtered, "How 'bout it, Harry? Fancy another go?" Ron moved to reach for his wand to reset the board.  
  
"I don't think so, Ron," replied Harry, unable to conceal the mirth in his voice, "I'm already tired and I still have half a scroll to fill for my Potion's essay."  
  
Ron gasped and Hermione's expression had become rather smug. "You mean Harry Potter, adventurer extraordinaire, would rather do homework, which isn't even due tomorrow by the way, than be pummeled by his best mate in chess?" inquired Ron sarcastically.  
  
"Very funny, Ron, but as evident by that last game I would hardly have been pummeled. Besides, if I want to qualify for Auror Training I have to do well in Snape's class this year."  
  
"Harry's right, Ron," began Hermione, "Our final year is hardly the time to start slacking off." Ron rolled his eyes, which didn't go unnoticed by Hermione who stuck her tongue out at him in response.  
  
"How grown up, Granger," Ron retorted, "Now that you've gotten Hermione started up, Harry, I'm off to bed. You deal with it now." With that Ron simply stood and literally ran up the common room stairs.  
  
"Gee, don't I feel special," said as she watched Ron's retreating figure go up the stairs.  
  
"Goodnight," Harry called up to him, chuckling slightly at the behavior of his two friends.  
  
Hermione turned to face Harry, "Will that boy ever grow up?" she asked. She walked over to the desk on which Harry was now organizing his school books and scrolls.  
  
"Hmm." Harry pretended to think it over for a moment, "I don't suppose so, not if Fred and George are any indication anyway." Fred and George Weasley owned and worked at the most thriving joke shop in Hogsmeade, and in Harry's opinion just like the Peter Pan of muggle fairy tales, they were the boys that would never ever grow up.  
  
Hermione laughed at Harry's feigned seriousness and playfully slapped him in the shoulder. He immediately grabbed his arm and allowed his eyes to water.  
  
"OW!" he yelped. Hermione's mirth immediately sobered and she was about to apologize when she saw Harry's shoulders shaking. Was he crying? She wondered. No, he was laughing!  
  
"Harry Potter, how dare you make me think I hurt you?" she asked seriously. She pouted and let her face take on a wounded expression.  
  
"Hermione," he started, "I." Then he noticed that her frown didn't quite reach her eyes for they were still sparkling in amusement. "You great big faker!"  
  
They shared a laugh and Harry then proceeded to sit with his books once more. "Do you need a hand with the assignment, Harry?" she asked, not able to squelch the curiosity she had about the work that seemed so important to Harry.  
  
"Have you finished yours then? I'd wager you've been done for a week at least."  
  
"Two," she replied with a smirk, "Would you like some help then?"  
  
"It'd be great if you could read it over. I'm having a bit of difficulty ending it properly."  
  
"Sure, Harry, I don't mind at all. In fact I'd be happy to. I have to say that I'm pleased with this newfound interest in your studies."  
  
"Well the Head Boy should set a good example should he not?" he responded, absently shining his Head Boy badge with the end of his cloak. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the pride he was subconsciously demonstrating.  
  
She leaned over his shoulder and began to read what he had written. Harry secretly enjoyed these moments very much and recently found himself wanting to spend more and more time with Hermione, never stopping to wonder why exactly this was. Perhaps he was afraid to ask himself the real reason; he was not quite ready to know the answer.  
  
He inhaled deeply and took in her scent, a mixture of vanilla and strawberry's, a peculiar combination but nonetheless entirely intoxicating. He realized he was staring up at her, but somehow he couldn't tear his eyes away. Besides, she was so engrossed in his essay that she wouldn't notice anyhow.  
  
Somehow, over the years, when Harry wasn't looking Hermione had turned into quite a beautiful woman. She was no longer the skinny, buck-toothed, bushy- haired little girl that he had known. Her hair hung in thick ringlets down her back; she was tall and graceful, and her smile, as far as Harry was concerned, was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. As he watched her he felt that all too familiar feeling of late, a heat across his cheeks; he knew he was blushing again.  
  
"Harry, this essay is excellent." Hermione was unable to continue for the moment that she looked at his face she saw paralyzed by the intensity of his expression. Their eyes met in a locked gaze and it was as if time had simply stopped; the whole world had vanished, save for the two people standing enthralled in the common room of Gryffindor Tower. Of its own accord his hand reached up and brushed a stray lock from her face, gently tucking it behind her ear.  
  
"Hermione," he began, speaking in a whisper, afraid of breaking the tranquility of the moment, "I."  
  
Without saying a word, Hermione put a finger to his lips to quiet him, for she was still basking in their heated gaze, afraid to ruin it with words that would only dampen the moment. Harry took both her hand in his and leaned up to kiss her, as she closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss. Their lips met in a moment of sheer gentility and tenderness, which said nothing of the electricity that was consuming the both of them. 


	2. chapter two

It Happened One Night : Chapter Two  
  
Disclaimer: Alas the characters are not mine. They belong to the fabulous JKR Rating: R  
  
Their lips parted after that chaste, innocent kiss, and they both released a soft contented sigh. Harry's eyes were fixated on the way in which she licked her lips afterward, her eyes still closed. It seemed as if she were trying to burn the memory into her mind; Harry knew because he was doing the exact same thing. He pressed his lips to her once more, a bit more firmly than before and was pleased when she reciprocated.  
Abruptly they both pulled apart. "I'm sorry," they said in unison, "You're sorry?" they both asked at once, unable to keep the hurt and confusion from their voices.  
"Truth be told, Hermione," he said gently, "I've wanted to do that for quite some time." She smiled up at him as he spoke, causing him to smile back; he never could resist returning one of her smiles.  
"That kiss was a long time in coming, if we're going to be honest about it," she said with her cheeks flaming red and her eyes downcast in a shy manner.  
"Yes, it was," he agreed, using his hand to gently raise her chin so they were once again eye to eye, "And I'm happy that it finally happened."  
"So am I," she whispered back, holding his hand and pulling him to his feet, away from the forgotten quills and parchments.  
Without hesitation his arms encircled her waist and he pulled her into his embrace. Her arms went up around his neck as she let her head rest in the crook of his neck, savoring the smell that was intoxicating and uniquely Harry. It was a bittersweet moment; they were on the verge of something new and exciting and yet they could not help but mourn a seven- year friendship that had been forever altered.  
"Are you scared, Harry?" she asked, her lips brushing his neck with every spoken word, sending shivers shooting up and down his spine.  
"Terrified," he replied, "There is no one more important to me than you and I would never want to do anything to lose you."  
"You never will," she promised, "Regardless of what happens tomorrow, a week from now, or a year from now; you will never lose me."  
"Are you scared," he asked in turn, half hoping she was as terrified as he was. Where's that Gryffindor courage now, Potter? he asked himself wryly.  
"No," she answered, "Scared doesn't nearly encompass what I'm feeling right now, Harry." She momentarily lost concentration as his hand traveled up and down her back in a soothing motion that almost made her want to purr. "Together, Harry," she continued, "We can do great things" Her voice carrying just a bit of a suggestive tone.  
She made a mistake then; she looked into his eyes and was struck by a cavalcade of emotions, emotions that were mirrored in her own eyes as well: happiness, warmth, caring, love, and lust. He was looking at her like he was a thirsty man in the desert and she was glass of cold water.  
"Hermione," his voice more husky and deep than she had ever heard it before, just the sound of it raised her body temperature, "I have never wanted anymore more than I want you right now."  
As if her were just coming to the realization that he had spoken aloud he pulled away from her in an embarrassed manner. "Blast!" he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."  
She laughed, "Harry, you could never make me feel uncomfortable; we've known one another far too long for that to happen. I will be angry however if you don't come right back here this instant." She opened her arms to him, already missing his warmth in her embrace.  
Harry was next to her in one giant step and swept her into his arms. Their lips met again though this kiss was not comparable to the others. The first had been tentative, experimental, and gentle. The second kiss had been a declaration of intentions; this kiss was neither. This kiss was passionate and laced with fire. His tongue ran along her bottom lip, asking for entrance, which she gladly granted. Their tongues dueled and they moaned into each other's mouths. Their bodies were pressed flush against one another, their hands playfully exploring one another.  
Hermione gasped as his hand gently cupped her breast; she ran her hands up his back and through his raven hair. She couldn't seem to stop her hands from running over his body. This was certainly not the same boy she played Exploding Snap with just a few short years before. This man's body was well sculpted and broad shouldered. He stood at a tall 6'2, which always made her 5'7 frame seem so petite and feminine. His square jaw and luminous eyes completed the package nicely, she thought; Harry had turned into quite the gorgeous man, a gorgeous man whose lips were currently wreaking havoc upon her neck. They consumed one another with kisses, separating only when oxygen became a problem. Breathing heavily, they parted both flushed red wearing the same broad smile.  
Looking deeply into her eyes he finally spoke, "I think I'm in love with you," his voice barely higher than that of a whisper, then shaking his head, "No, I know I'm in love with you. I have been for a very long time."  
"Harry, if you only knew how long I've been waiting to hear you say those words," she said, a lone tear running done her cheek, "I love you, so much, Harry."  
In half an instant all coherent thoughts left both of their minds as they were once again locked in a heated kiss. Before they knew what was happening Harry was seated on an overstuffed chair with Hermione straddling his lap. They were positively on fire; kissing with such fervor that Hermione was sure they would both have bruises in the morning. She could feel Harry's excitement as she grinded her hips against his in the most intimate of ways, eliciting a throaty groan from him.  
"You're going to be the end of me," he murmured, holding her hips as he pressed against her with a little more force.  
Her body was tingling in the most pleasurable of ways. If they kept this up for any longer she would no longer have control of her faculties or of her actions.  
Harry was losing himself in her kisses; his senses knew only her. He knew where this seemed to be heading and he wasn't sure if they were ready for this.  
She whimpered as he tore his lips from her, "Hermione, are you sure you're okay with this? I know it's very sudden."  
"Harry Potter, I have never wanted anyone more," she said echoing his early sentiments.  
"What do you say I go make my rounds now? Give us a little time to collect ourselves?" he asked.  
Reluctantly she got off his lap. "That sounds like a good idea. I'll take your books back to our common room while you go."  
"Okay then, love," he said, smiling at the way that term of endearment rolled off his tongue of it.  
She tiptoed to give him a quick kiss on the lips, "Hurry back," she said, watching him as he walked out of the common room. She smiled as she thought of the surprise she would have waiting for him when he returned.  
  
Author's Note: Next chapter will be juicy, author's honor! 


	3. chapter three

Title: It Happened One Night Part Three Rating: Hard R Disclaimer: None of these phenomenal characters belong to me; they are the brainchildren of the fabulous JKR. Please don't sue me. I'm a college student who survives on jelly sandwiches; you won't get much.  
  
Author's Note: Full NC-17 version will be available at www.portkey.org  
  
Harry quickly walked up and down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, a wistful little smile painted on his face. His mind was still reeling from what had happened moments ago; he could still taste her lips, still feel her warmth in his arms. His heart pounded at the mere thought of her.  
  
Never had Harry inspected the corridors so quickly, his mind already back in the common room of the head boy and girl dormitory. He half-craved, half-dreaded the conversation he knew would have to take place in a few short moments. He wasn't accustomed to how he was feeling, never thinking that he would ever experience the love that was filling his heart or feel the love that she was so willing to give him. As extraordinary as this feeling was it was equally as terrifying.  
  
It had been Harry's experience that to love someone is to lose them, and Hermione was the one person necessary to him being able to be Harry Potter, to live, and to simply breath. He was afraid their newfound relationship would revert back to only friendship, knowing he would always desire her to be more. She was the woman who now held his heart in voluntary captivity.  
  
She loves me, he thought with a broad smile, she really, truly, loves me. She was the first person to look beyond the scar and see the scared little boy living in the Dursley's tiny cupboard underneath the stairs.  
  
As Harry rounded the corner of the halls on his inspection route he was hit with the familiar smell of strawberries and vanilla. He would know that smell anywhere; it could only be Hermione.  
  
He raised his wand and said, "Accio Cloak." He laughed as his invisibility cloak dropped into his hand, revealing a smiling Hermione.  
  
"How did you know I was here?" she asked, knowing that she should never have underestimated the extraordinary man standing in front of her.  
  
"My heart beats a little faster when you're near," he replied suavely. He couldn't help but feel pleased as a shy little blush crept across her cheeks.  
  
"Smooth talker," she replied unwilling to show just how much his words had affected her.  
  
"Sneaking about the hallway at night and theft," he said, "What kind of example are you setting, Ms. Granger? Ron and I certainly have corrupted you."  
  
She sauntered toward him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes, "I have yet to be corrupted, Mr. Potter." Her voice was laden with innuendo. "Besides, as Head Girl I am perfectly entitled to wander about the halls, and it was hardly theft considering you left your cloak in our shared common room."  
  
He always loved her explanatory tone of voice. "I suppose I could overlook it just this once," he said, gingerly placing a kiss upon her forehead and taking her hand in his. "What are you doing about? I thought you were going to wait back in the dormitory."  
  
"I just wanted to arrange for a little surprise for you, well, for us, I suppose." The look of confusion on his face was utterly adorable.  
  
"A surprise?" he asked, "What sort of surprise?"  
  
"You'll have to wait and see, you silly git," she replied, as they walked hand in hand back to the dormitories.  
  
He mumbled their password to the portrait of a knight in shining armor, sitting atop a mighty stead, "Freshly caught Cornish Pixies." The portrait swung open.  
Before Harry could step inside Hermione held him back, keeping a firm hold on his hand.  
  
"Harry," she whispered, "What's going to happen tomorrow? Will you still love me? Or will I wake and find all of this a dream?"  
  
"This is very real, Hermione. I love you, tonight, tomorrow, always, forever."  
  
Her smile lit up her whole face and she kissed then tiptoed to whisper into his ear, "You are my heart, Harry. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone and I don't know what I'd do without you."  
  
"You'll never have to find out; I promise," he solemnly vowed, "Voldemort is gone. We don't have to live our lives with the constant worry about what's going to step out of the shadow. We can just be together."  
  
She looked deeply into his emerald eyes then wordlessly guided him into their dormitory, knowing she had made the right decision. Harry was not prepared for the sight before him. The room was bathed in the soft light countless candles. They were everywhere: along the mantle, across the floor, leading up the stairs, floating in midair. Rose petals were strewn about the room, and a blanket was laid upon a soft looking blanket in front of the fireplace.  
  
"Hermione," he said, his voice warm and gentle, "You amaze me. How in blazes did you manage to do this? I was only gone just a few moments."  
  
"Just a few simple flicks of the wand and a little extra help from Dobby. That house-elf really loves you."  
  
"Everybody loves me," he replied cheekily, earning him a playful swat on the arm.  
  
"Especially me," she grinned taking the opportunity to ruffle his hair. "Come on, Harry. Let's sit in front of the fire."  
  
He allowed her to lead him over to the blanket, which was oh so carefully laid out in front of the fire. He sat against a large pillow. Hermione sat between his legs, leaning against his chest. She felt a warmth come to her cheeks when his arms wrapped around his waist.  
  
"Isn't this funny?" she asked softly.  
  
"Isn't what funny?" he asked, nuzzling and kissing her neck.  
  
"How natural this feels. No awkwardness. I feel like I've been kissing you all my life. Why did this take us so long, Harry? Think of all the kisses we've missed."  
  
"I don't think we were ready, sweetheart. I knew that if anything were to happen between us it would be something to be taken very seriously, a real commitment."  
  
She reached over to the basket and withdrew a couple of goblets and a bottle of recently transformed wine, as well as a platter of strawberries. She delicately picked up a strawberry and held it up to his lips, laughing when he gobbled the entire thing in a single bite.  
  
She looked up and saw fire dancing in his eyes, not entirely unaware of the fire dancing in her own. Their lips brushed ever so softly.  
  
He pulled her onto his lap and showered her with kisses: her cheeks, her lips, her eyes, her neck. She gasped softly as he began to lightly suckle her neck, swirling his tongue in an excruciatingly tantalizing motion.  
  
Their eyes met as she slowly began to undo the buttons of his robe. She felt his body shiver as she ran her hands up and down his chest and abs, obviously admiring his well formed physique.  
  
When she moved to remove his shirt he stopped her. "Hermione, are you sure about this?" He asked, "If you said tomorrow that this was a mistake my heart just wouldn't be able to handle it."  
  
"I have never been more sure of anything," she replied, "I want you to be my first. I want you to be my only."  
  
Harry smiled at her reply. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure that she would be able to hear it. "I love you, so much that it almost hurts." He kissed her, dragging his lips slowly and sensually across hers. "My first. My only."  
  
Her heart fluttered. She had never dared to ask Harry if he had given his virginity to Cho Chang. She suspected that he had; they had been together for nearly two years. It pleased her to no end that she would know Harry in a way that no other women had.  
  
Suddenly, no words were needed. Conversation took the form of caresses and looks. Harry reached to unbutton Hermione's robe but she stopped him, then raising his arms above his head so she could remove his jumper. Her actions were clear. She intended to torture him a bit first. Evil woman, he thought with a smirk, though all cohesive thought left his mind when he felt her hot mouth placing kisses on his chest.  
  
Their eyes locked once more and Harry's mind went into sensory overload as he felt her unbuckling his belt. He knew she must have seen the bulge in his pants, which was becoming increasingly more painful.  
  
In contrast with her previously slow pace he was surprised when his clothing suddenly disappeared; he knew she must have muttered a disrobing charm. Clever girl.  
  
Her eyes widened as she saw Harry for the first time. His body was beautiful and all hers, she thought with a grin. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Her soft kiss quickly heated up, turning into a bruising kiss. He pressed her body up against his naked form, running his hands up her arms, across her shoulders, slowly sliding her unbuttoned robe off her shoulders, revealing her soft creamy skin. She was wearing absolutely nothing under her robe.  
  
"Surprise," she said simply.  
  
He didn't reply; he was mesmerized. His eyes ran over her body, as if trying to burn every detail into his memory, causing a deep crimson blush to wash over her face. Suppressing his typical male mind frame whose only thought was 'girl pretty', he was finally able to speak. "You're gorgeous," he said. He tenderly kissed the spot above her heart. "What did I do to deserve you?"  
  
Hermione thought she knew everything to know about her best friend, but she had never met this tender, romantic, man. Before she could stop herself there were tears running down her face. "No, Harry. What did I do to deserve you?"  
  
He kissed her tears away and told her quietly, "I never had a real home, Hermione and home is where the heart is. You're home to me now; you have my heart."  
  
She silenced him with a kiss, making it clear she no longer wanted to speak. Her hands explored his body, running down his back, loving the feel of his skin against hers. She rested her hands on his slim waist as he ran a trail of burning kisses down the side of her neck and the hollow of her throat.  
  
With the seeming familiarity and ease of longtime lovers he gently laid her upon the blanket, covering her body with his own. His tongue ran across her lips and she gladly granted him entrance. Their level of passion was increasing by leaps and bounds with every passing second. She could feel his excitement pressing against her thigh. The knowledge that she had effect on him delighted her.  
  
She looked into his eyes which were burning pools of deep emerald and could feel the desire emanating from him in waves. His eyes asked an unspoken question to which she nodded her assent.  
  
She guided him into her, gasping at the contrasting sensations. Pain. Pleasure. Only a fine line between the two. Never had they felt a connection so strong with one another. It was the coming together of two halves which would never be whole again without one another. There were no awkward moments; they moved against each other with the fluidity of dances, gracefully and skillfully.  
  
"I love you," he whispered into her ear, marveling at the feeling of being totally surrounded by her.  
  
"I love you," she murmured.  
  
The sensations coursing through her body were so powerful that she doubted there was a word in the English language that would do it justice.  
  
They loved each other well into the night, only stopping when their bodies were too exhausted to continue.  
  
Author's Note: Full version at www.portkey.org will be up soon. Please review. It's what keeps me writing. 


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